"Everybody wants to love,
Everybody wants to be loved."
-Ingrid Michaelson
°•°
My purse, cell phone, and car keys were on my computer desk, and my day's clothes were hung on a hook on the outside of the closet door handle, directly beneath my shoes. My backpack was also full.
My only task at the time is to brush my teeth. Instead, I stand in the bathroom and stare at my reflection.
I should not be anxious because this is my last year of sixth grade, or year 13, to be precise. Yes, I am aware that I will be being watched by my peers; I am used to it. Really, I'm looking forward to it. It reminds me of my place at the bottom of the earth.
I'm worried because I'll see him again. I've had a thing for him ever since I discovered how babies were made. That would be around freshman year. Half of what I said was incorrect, but the question that remains is; will he recognize me?
During the summer, I volunteer at Camp Musique. A music camp for children aged 6 to 12. That has been my experience since I was a sophomore. Outsiders might think it's dull, but it's my happy place. I'm myself when I'm there. I was the self-assured girl I'd always wanted to be. Most likely because I was constantly surrounded by children and adults.
I expected the same this year, so there I was, my confidence high, my long, dark brown hair gracefully falling at my waist, and my chocolate brown eyes brighter than ever, ready to do my job. I wore my contacts instead of my black-rimmed spectacles because of a previous accident involving a six-year-old last summer.
The supervisor approached me and informed me that I was not the only adolescent volunteer this year. When I realized who else would be joining me, my heart stopped. It just had to be Harry. The guy who has no idea I exist and who I am madly in love with makes me feel more infatuated since I barely know him.
I could hear the camp's administrator telling what this summer's camp will be like for him, but I was so concentrated on the beauty himself that I tuned her out.
Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He was gently turning in my direction, running his fingers through his wavy brown hair, and I couldn't breathe.
"Oh, Harry, there is someone I want you to meet!" He was called up by the woman in charge. Everyone calls her Miss Olly, but I refer to her as Aunt Olly because she is my mother's sister.
"I am going to go." Before I could walk away or even come up with an excuse to leave, she grabbed my hand.
Okay, deep breaths; it is not like he's going to recognize you or anything. Not the way you're dressed now. Who am I kidding? He doesn't even notice me when I'm at school!
"Hi, Miss Olly. I'm so happy to be here to lend a helping hand." Harry said, the words rolling off his tongue effortlessly, making it seem as if they were rehearsed. Now standing at close range, I could see the richness of his emerald eyes and his dimples that appeared whenever he smiled. He seemed a bit different here than at school. He's much warmer and approachable. I actually felt like I could be civil and talk to him.
YOU ARE READING
Vanilla Girl (girlxgirl)
RomanceOne inexperienced introverted girl, an appealing rich daredevil, one domineering sultry blonde, a bully, the psychopath and the gregarious best friend. Tiger Gething's story starts here. Desperately trying to get the attention of the boy she's infa...